“Two nights. I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.”
She chokes. “That’s stupid.”
“Twenty thousand.”
“Jeremy, stop.”
“Name your price.” I keep my voice level, the way I do inboardrooms when I need the other party to take me seriously. “I don’t want to do this without you.” That sounds less unhinged than Ican’tdo it if you aren’t with me, right? I’m not sure when having Avah at my side became so essential to the partnership, but no half measures at this point.
“You think I’ll do it for money?”
“I think you need money to rebuild your life, and I need you.”
If I’m being honest, part of me hopes she says no. I want her to come because I matter to her, not because I’m cutting a check. But transactions are a language I understand, and people have been taking my money and calling it affection for so long I’m not sure I know how to be any other way.
“Twenty-five thousand.” Her chin lifts, cheeks flushed with color that could be anger or embarrassment or both. “If you’re going to be ridiculous, at least make it worth my while.”
I force my features to stay neutral despite the disappointment gnawing at my gut. This is what I have to offer, so I can’t fault her for taking it.
Then her eyes spark, quick enough that I’d miss it if I weren’t staring, and I wonder if she’s waiting for me to call bullshit on this whole absurd negotiation.
I extend my hand across the table. “Done.”
She stares at my hand with an expression close to horror.
“I was joking, Jeremy.”
“I’m serious, Avah.”
“I’m not going to take twenty-five thousand dollars from you to go on a camping trip.”
“You named your price. I accepted. That’s how deals work.”
Her eyes search my face, and I hold still because if I move, I’ll pull my hand back. And then I’ll say the thing I can’t say. The thing that would reveal that my feelings for her are completely outside the parameters of casual.
She wraps her fingers around mine. Her palm iswarm, and I stand, pulling her to her feet and toward me until she’s close enough that I can see the flecks of gold at the edges of those blue eyes.
Her lips part, and I lean in to press my mouth against the underside of her jaw where her pulse hammers against my lips. Not her mouth, no matter how badly I want it, because there are rules that go along with the deal between us.
“You’re stupid,” she whispers.
Stupid for losing my heart? Definitely. For doing whatever it takes to keep her? Smartest move I’ve ever made.
“Sticks and stones, sweetheart.” I drag my teeth along the tendon of her neck, and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
“Is this part of the deal?” Her voice has gone ragged.
“No.” I pull back enough to look at her, needing to make sure she understands. “This is because I can’t be near you without wanting to touch you. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. Always.”
She grabs the front of my shirt and drags me forward.
We don’t make it past the couch. She yanks at my clothes while I lift the shirt over her head, and the urgency between us tonight is different from the last time. That night was two people learning each other’s topography. This is need and frustration and all the things neither of us is brave enough to say out loud.
I drop to my knees, unable to show any sort of restraint when I spend every waking moment craving the taste of her on my tongue. Her back is against the wall, and I hook my thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pull them, along with her underwear, down in one motion.
“Jeremy—”
“Let me, Avah. Please.”
